


Whumptober 2019 - my submissions!

by TeamThor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Drabble Collection, Drink Spiking, Hulk is a good Bro, Hurt Thor (Marvel), M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Hulk (Marvel), Protective Thor (Marvel), Smart Hulk (Marvel), Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Tony Stark (mentioned) - Freeform, Whumptober 2019, can be read as platonic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 23:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamThor/pseuds/TeamThor
Summary: Hey guys! Im not doing one for every day, but I love a bit of whump so here's what I've got so far. Hopefully i'll update but lets see what happens first





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No.14 - Tear Stained   
Bruce Banner copes with the death of his friend, Tony Stark. Or at least, he tries to.

Bruce sank onto his knees, his lungs burning, his head pounding, every thought inside of him screaming out that he'd failed- even like this. Even huge, with the brains and the brawn combined. Even then, he'd failed. Tony was dead. Tony was dead and he hadn't lifted a finger to help him. 

He should've snapped that gauntlet a second time. Lost his other arm, maybe, but not Tony. Not Tony. 

It was never supposed to be Tony. 

Smaller hands, covered in scratchy woollen gloves met his back. A deep voice, shaking with unshed tears but somehow still so concrete muttered words that he couldn't hear against his skin. 

His eyes cracked open, and Thor was right there with him. Kneeling on the ground beside him, arms attempting to cover the broadness of Bruce's back, blue and brown eyes fixed solely on him.   
A small tug pulled Bruce further into his lap, his face meeting the soft material of Thor's dress pants. 

"I-I couldn't..." Bruce choked through, tangling his fingers in the lapels of Thor's jacket.   
"I couldn't save him. I should've saved him, I should've fucking been there. I should've..."

Thor hushed him then, holding him closer, tighter, until he swore he could hear the pounding of that thunder that courses through Thor's veins. He hung onto it, focused his mind on the faint buzz and the low level static that Thor always seemed to have around him, and let it cover him. 

"You did everything asked of you, Bruce. Everything." Thor squeezed his own eyes shut, nestling his forehead into the side of Bruce's neck. 

It must've been uncomfortable for him, cramped over like that, and Bruce would've told him so if it didn't feel so good. So right. Sheltered, safe, and every other damn feeling that was too good for him to handle right now.  
A voice told him that he shouldn't have comfort. Not now, not here. Not at Tony's god damn funeral. Why should he get that? When Pepper had lost a husband, Morgan had lost a father.   
He'd lost a friend, and it hurt. It burned, in a way that was much too familiar to the stifling fire of the gauntlet around his hand. But it wasn't the same. Wasn't as bad as they had it, so why was he-

"Bruce, stop." Thor's own hoarse whispers broke through the buzzing of his head, and he almost wanted to shy away from it. 

But the more curious part of him was genuinely wondering what Thor had to say. What more could he say? He'd already done so much. Held Bruce's arm all the way through the service with an unrelenting grip. Stayed by his side all the way back on the battlefield as he sank to his knees for the first time when he saw his friend die. He'd hovered above him then, hand outstretched, even then waiting for Bruce's go-to. 

Bruce had given it, and Thor had refused to let go of him since. 

"You're hurting." Thor's beard moved when he talked, scratching against Bruce's skin.   
"You've lost someone, and it hurts. I know, I've been there. I know. But never think that this is your fault, or you could've done better. You did your part. It was enough, Bruce. You were enough." 

Bruce's lungs fought to keep expanding and working as another sob clawed at his throat. Thor's hands were on his back, his hair was tickling his face, and he was there. He was there, and he was holding him, and for the first time in a while Bruce let himself break. 

He broke for Natasha, for a ledger that had to have been pure as snow by now. For a body, left on an alien planet. For a funeral that only a handful of people knew about. 

He broke for Vision, for Wanda's face when she was left to lose another person. 

He broke for Asgard. For Heimdall and Loki and a place that never knew how to hate the Hulk. For the Thor he'd known long ago, before Thanos, before things had turned dark and grey and cold. 

He broke for Tony.   
Tony, his friend, the guy he'd spent hours with locked up in that shiny lab, poking and prodding and laughing over nothing. For his family, who had lost him. For the world, who had lost one of their first protectors. 

Bruce broke, and Thor was there to catch him.


	2. No. 21 - Laced Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor makes a mistake at a Sakaarian party. Hulk does what hulk does best - protects his puny friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t.w: thor gets his drink spiked, but nothing really bad happens. still if this thing isn't for you, skip this chapter!

Sakaar was a place Hulk had grown to like. A begrudging sort of like, really. There were some parts of it that were genuine - like angry girl. Angry girl was probably his favourite thing about Sakaar. He also liked the way the crowds smiled at him, in a strange sort of way. It wasn’t as good as when angry girl smiled at him - like she was genuinely happy to see him. No, these people, the crowds, they were just happy to see something get smashed. By Hulk or whoever. Still, it was better than earth. Better than anger and hate and fear. 

The parties on Sakaar he was forced to attend as champion, however…

Hulk would never admit it out loud, but he hated those parties. Everything was loud, everything was bright, and when angry girl wasn’t there it was just him, standing in the center of a room, letting people clamber over him and ask for his photograph. He didn’t like that. He liked naps, play fights, and this strange kind of Sakaarian soup that made his tongue burn. This had none of those. But, angry girl liked them, and so he tried his best to like them too.

Luckily for him, Thor seemed to hate this as much as he did. It was kind of funny, weirdly - seeing the God’s tiny features screw themselves up in a glare at whoever decided they wanted to look at the new ‘lord of thunder’. His lightning may have been capped by the device in his neck, but his stormy glare was decidedly not. 

People steered clear of him. And since the only person Thor knew there was Hulk, people steered clear of him, too. 

This was probably the best party he’d had in ages. 

“This is ridiculous.” Thor shook his head, leaning heavily against the brightly-patterned counter, almost having to yell over the volume of the music that pounded out from the speakers.   
“He’s not even that good.”

Hulk turned to glance at where Thor had decided to fix his death-glare, watching as the Grandmaster’s hands flew over a device that seemed to be causing the sounds he was currently being subjected to. 

“Thor not like music?”

“I like music. I just prefer it when it doesn’t make me want to cut off my own ears, that’s all.” Thor sighed, standing up from his stool to get closer to Hulk’s ear. 

“When can we go?”

“Soon.” Hulk was honestly glad that Thor was here. He’d never admit it, but being at these things alone...it was bad. Not scary, of course. Hulk didn’t get scared of anything. The people here knew he could crush them with his pinkie finger, if he so desired. That was why they liked him.   
But the loud noises, the bright lights - it all seemed eerily similar to a part of his life he’d rather forget. The part where flashes meant bullets and noises meant soldiers. The one part he and Banner could both agree was one of the worst things they’d lived through. 

Two drinks were abruptly shoved onto the table in front of them by a small robotic figure, as the Grandmaster’s voice echoed from seemingly every corner of the room. 

“A toast, for the grand champion!” 

The room erupted in cheers that hurt Hulk’s ears, the floor shaking with stomping and the air filled with the noise of hands, finds, and other assorted appendages clapping. Hulk bared his teeth in what he hoped was closer to a grin than a grimace, and tried his level best to sit through it all without breaking something.   
He met Thor’s eyes, and felt something stir in his chest when his face seemed to crease in sympathy. 

“Come on.” Thor’s hand tapped lightly against his arm, and he raised his own glass towards him. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

Hulk grunted his agreement, and roughly clanked his glass against Thor’s, throwing the foul-tasting liquid down his throat. 

Maybe in the 2 years he’d been here he’d gotten used to the drink. Or maybe Thor was just really that puny, because almost the second the tiny god had taken a drink he was doubled over with coughs, letting the glass drop from his hand to the floor below him. 

“By the Norns.” Thor managed between gasps, forcing himself upright and seeming to immediately regret it, judging by the way his hands immediately flew out to steady himself against Hulk’s arm. “What was that?” 

Hulk sniffed the glass, shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t really know what anything was, here. People had told him what he needed to know, and rarely did that coincide with what he wanted to know. He knew the names of the weapons that lined the walls of the training area. He knew how to greet the grandmaster. But outside of that, there really wasn’t much people had deemed him worthy to know. 

The lights shone bright again, as the music increased in it’s tempo. More people began to pour in from the doors, and by now, Hulk knew it was time to go. 

“Come on, Blondie.” 

Hulk brought one huge hand to Thor’s back, trying to both somehow guide him away from the bar and to ease the fit of coughing that somehow still hadn’t subsided. He’d expected Thor to flinch away, to bat at his hand and proclaim himself unneeding of help. So it came as kind of a shock when Thor actually leant into it, clumsy footsteps following where Hulk was directing with an ease that was quite honestly a little frightening. 

It was with a sudden surge of overprotectiveness when he steered Thor towards the doorway, clamping his hand over the demigods shoulders as he pushed his way through the crowd. 

“Home, now.” 

***

Thor couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, here. He’d always been the more unobservant one of the family, at least, that had been Odin’s proclamation. Loki was the clever one, the smart one, the one who read the books and studied the magic and figured out the problem. Thor was the warrior, and up until a few years ago he’d been fine with that. The likes of Stark and Banner were not the likes of him, and that was okay. 

He supposed Stark and Banner would’ve had the common sense not to take a drink from a stranger, on a planet he didn’t know, filled with people he didn’t trust. They wouldn’t have landed themselves into this mess, staggering down an empty hallway with an overly-concerned Hulk shadowing his every move. 

“M’fine, Hulk. I just need to…” Thor found himself slowing down before he even really noticed that it was happening, until he came to an abrupt stop, planting his hand on the wall. 

He didn’t know what exactly it was that he needed to do. It would’ve been a lot easier to identify if the walls just stopped moving. 

Stupid trash planet and it’s stupid moving walls. 

He hated Sakaar. God, he hated it. They’d even found a way to ruin corridors, lining it with lights that shone just a little too brightly and floors that seemed to shift under his feet.   
Thor ran a hand roughly down his face, screwing his eyes tightly shut against the blurring colours and the sudden intensity of the air around him. 

He felt awful. He felt tired. His legs began to falter beneath him until he was sliding down the wall, blood rushing past his ears in a roar that was louder than any dragon Muspellheim could throw at him. 

“Blondie?”   
Hulk’s voice was a low grumble against his ear, and he could feel the heat from his hand where it hovered above his shoulder, waiting and wanting to help but unsure if he should. 

Which was ridiculous. Why would Thor need help? He wasn’t some fragile princess who swooned at the tiniest sip of one drink. He was Thor, Lord of- wait, no, God of Thunder. He was the God of Thunder and he lived on Asgard and he was fine. 

He was fine, wasn’t he? 

Sure, maybe his head was pounding. Maybe his vision was starting to fail him, black spots darting across his vision that only seemed to be getting bigger. Maybe he could feel his body begin to ignore his brains sluggish messages that something was wrong, slouching further into the wall, chasing the coldness of the metal tiles against his skin that felt much too warm now. 

“Blondie!” Hulk wasn’t grumbling anymore. This was a shout, panicked, as Thor hit the ground with a dull thud. 

He could barely feel it as Hulk shook his shoulder, trying frantically to get some response out of him. He barely saw Hulk’s expression, wide eyed and wild when Thor didn’t reply to any of his rousing. He didn’t hear any of the pleas, or the questions. 

But, really. He was fine. 

***

Hulk paced the floors of his room, watching where Thor had slipped into a fitful sleep on the bed. 

He didn’t want to take his eyes off him. Not even for a moment. Not when he looked so fragile, small, and it suddenly wasn’t funny anymore that Thor had fallen over. It certainly hadn’t been funny when Thor had started convulsing, rivets of lightning flashing under his skin that left painful looking marks etched onto the demigods body. It wasn’t funny that Hulk had had to carry him back to the room himself, listening to every muffled sound of pain that was cried into his shoulder. It wasn’t funny seeing Thor claw at his throat, writhing with pain that Hulk didn’t know how to fix. 

Hulk trudged his way back over to the bed, resting the back of his hand against Thor’s forehead. It gave him a faint bite of static, blue light briefly glimmering over his palm before he drew it back with a frown. 

Thor was still too warm, too restless for Hulk to be able to sleep. He didn’t know much about medicine, but if puny Banner could do it? Well, it was almost a point of principle at this stage. Hulk could take care of Thor just as well as puny Banner could, maybe even better. It couldn’t be that hard. 

A small whimper reached his ears, and he turned to see Thor’s bright blue eyes gazing up at him.   
Wait, no, not at him. Thor was staring past him, with eyes that were too bright to be rid of fever, and too disfocused to be fully conscious. 

But it was something. 

“Hulk?” Thor croaked, eyes slipping back shut momentarily. “Where are we?”

“Bedroom. Thor safe, don’t worry.” 

Thor grunted, twisting onto his side, burrowing further under the blankets with a small sniffle that made Hulk’s heart clench.   
His fingers gripped the blankets tightly, as a low groan emerged from his throat.

“Hurts.”

“Thor sick.” Hulk moved to sit by the side of the bed, raising one finger to push a stray lock of hair out of Thor’s eyes. “But Hulk take care of it.”

Thor seemed happy with that answer, or at least too out of it to protest. When his eyes opened again, it was with a tad more clarity than last time, actually managing to find Hulk’s face and hold his gaze for a time. 

Hulk was getting a little uncomfortable with the way Thor was staring at him, so he cleared his throat and got to his feet with an excuse to break away from whatever that was. His hands wrapped around an oversized pitcher that rested next to the bed, and he gingerly sniffed at the liquid inside. 

“Thor want water?”

“Sure.”   
Thor made an attempt to sit up, but froze midway, and sank heavily back down onto the pillows.   
He sighed, looking more annoyed with himself than anything else, muttering something viciously in Asgardian before he seemed to realise he was forgetting something. 

“Thank you, Hulk. I’m...honestly I’m not sure what happened.”

“Blondie not worry about it.” Hulk didn’t really know how else to go about offering someone water. At least, not like this. He’d really hoped that by this point Thor would be able to handle it himself, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen anytime soon. 

With a small grumble to let Thor know that Hulk wasn’t enjoying this very much either, he knelt down by the side of the bed. Carefully, he cradled Thor’s head in his hand, tilting the pitcher up to a point where he could drink safely. 

“I’m sorry.” Thor mumbled as Hulk laid him back down against the pillow, face flushing red with something that was decidedly not a fever. 

“S’fine.”

Thor looked like he wanted to say something else, but the effort it had taken to maintain even that small amount of consciousness had clearly run its course, and within a few moments Hulk was left alone again. 

When the next day dawned, neither of them would speak of this. There was some awkward stumbling around it, but the two eventually resolved that it would be better if they just forgot about the entire thing. 

Hulk would’ve been comfortable never to mention it again. To bury it under a pile of memories and let it drift off into wherever memories went. But Thor wasn’t so eager to please. He kept thanking him for it, to an almost awkward degree. 

But, later, when Thor trusted Hulk to help save Asgard, he did so without hesitation. 

And Hulk quite liked the feeling of being trusted.


End file.
